They were very carefree days. I didn't even have a car back then (nor did my pal). We got buses and hitched everywhere. And walked. Boy did we walk! No mobile phones. Wet boots, stinky feet, hard boards to sleep on. Olympic snorers. Arduous trans-Knyoydart treks with ratty and mousey bothies to kip in. Meeting decent fellow travellers as well as the odd psychopath and weirdo.

On one epic trek in beautiful Highland weather we climbed Ladhar Bheinn en-route to the bothy at Barrisdale and came down off a shoulder to this wee bay.

http://binged.it/1K40e2t

It was a scorcher of a day and we were paddling our feet at the wee jutty-out point. A pod of dolphins came into the bay and put on a synchronised swimming and high leaping show for about half an hour. The Milky Way was incredible that night, we sat sipping Malt taking it all in. Kipped at the bothy. Tramped out to Kinlochhourn the following morning, no lift so we had to walk all the way to Loch Garry. Picked up a lift there and the driver dropped us at our front doors in Edinburgh!

I think of those Knoydart Bothy Days in a very different way to all the regular hillwalking days in Scotland I've had throughout my life. Really magical. Like another world.